Getaway
by TowMondler
Summary: How do you move on when your wife and son leave you? How do you keep going when there's nothing there for you anymore? Terrible summary, please read and review.
1. What would you give to getaway

Hello! I'm back. This is just the first chapter, and I didn't name the names of the people on purpose. See if you can guess who it is. Please review and make me feel better, because I am not having a good day. I just got back from my Western Civ class where I had fallen asleep. Oops. The worst was I was near the front so the professor definitely saw. Oh well. The song is by Train. Review!

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.

She had cried when she told him that she couldn't do it anymore. At least she had the decency to look upset about it. She had sat on the chair, and buried her face in her hands and sobbed so hard that he thought that she would break. And his heart broke watching her, against his will. He didn't want to have this overwhelming desire to go to her and pull her into his arms and tell her that he was wrong and he was sorry and whatever it was, whatever he had done he would fix. He would fix it for her. So that she would stay.

But he knew that offering her that wouldn't change anything. One foot was already out the door. Her bags had been packed and ready for weeks. He didn't tell her that he knew that. He didn't tell her that she sucked at hiding the suitcases, and that he had found them when he was looking for wrapping paper to wrap the birthday present that their son was going to take to his cousin's birthday party. He knew that she kept the wrapping paper in a plastic crate in the back of her closet, and he had been on hands and knees searching for the right color, it having to be boy enough that his son wouldn't be embarrassed taking it, but girl enough that his niece wouldn't pout to her mother that it was a boy's present. And good God, if she pouted to her mother, then her mother complained to his wife, and then he would have to hear about one more thing that he had messed up.

One more thing where he hadn't been good enough.

That's where he found the suitcases, sitting so innocently in the back behind the box of Christmas presents. She liked to get her shopping done early. The presents were already wrapped and ready for Christmas morning, which wouldn't be for another three months. It was one of the things that he loved about her. Still loved about her.

How long had her bags been packed? And were his son's bag packed too? His head spun and he had forgotten all about the wrapping paper. But he didn't say anything. He didn't say anything to her. He didn't let her know that he knew. He had held onto the hope that there was some kind of mistake. That maybe she would change her mind. He held onto that irrational hope until the day that she announced she was leaving.

It was on a Tuesday. It was raining. Somehow, it made sense that it was raining. It wouldn't have been right if it was sunny and beautiful out. It was like when he went to a funeral and it was a gorgeous day, and it just doesn't work. In his opinion, if he was going to feel like crap, then it should be crappy out.

"Where are you going?" He asked. He played dumb. Hoping that if he did, she would change her mind.

He was desperate for her to change her mind.

"I don't know."

"When are you going to be back?" She didn't answer, she just looked at him and he got it, he understood. She wasn't going to be back.

"I'm sorry," she said. She was sorry? She was sorry. Yet that wasn't stopping her from leaving was it?

"Why are you sorry?" He yelled back. "For leaving? Then don't leave!" It was a simple solution to him. If she felt that guilty about leaving, then it was easy, don't leave.

"Please," she pleaded. "Please understand." And the worst part was that he did. He did understand. Because he had flirted with the idea of leaving too. "It's not the same. It hasn't been the same in a long time."

He knew that she was right. It was killing him that she was right. It wasn't the same.

"What about our son?" He asked running a hand over his face.

"I'm going to take him with me," she said. He knew that she would. She loved him too much to leave him behind, and he loved her too much still to take him away from her.

"And what about me?"

"He'll still see you. We'll work something out." She was so sure of this. She was always so sure of everything. She had been sure about their marriage though, and hadn't that failed? Hadn't that gone wrong?

And whose fault was it really?

Was it his fault? Had he done something wrong?

Or was it her fault? He didn't want it to be her fault. But he was still at a loss as to who was to blame. Maybe no one was to blame. Maybe they just weren't meant to be.

That was terrifying thought. Because they had been perfect together. They had fit together. The two of them...it was just right. His best friend said it all the time. That the two of them were too much alike for their own good.

"Maybe that's what makes you work," he had said shrugging. Having never had a relationship that worked himself, he wasn't really sure of relationships and what made them tick.

But now everything was falling apart. She was leaving, taking his son, and he would be stuck there. In their old apartment haunted by the memories.

Alone.

_If I could ride this slide into forever_

_What would I give to getaway_

_That pain that stayed_

_Seemed like forever_

_What would you give to getaway? _

She moved to Chicago. Sent him a postcard of the Sears Tower. Sent him pictures of his son in various Chicago settings.

She had lied. They hadn't made it work. He hadn't seen his son since she had left him exactly 52 days before.

He had cried on the morning she left. She didn't. But he did. His son had clung to him.

"Daddy, aren't you coming?"

"No, kiddo. I'm not. It's just you and Mommy." The four-year-old's lip quivered and he looked from his mother to his father.

"But I want you to come too."

"I can't buddy."

"Why not?" Why not? It was the $64,000 question. Because she didn't want him to? Because they had somehow drifted apart, until they didn't even know one another anymore? But how to explain that to a little boy.

"It's grown-up reasons, kiddo," he had offered.

"Will I get to see you?"

"Of course."

"Will you come see us?"

"Sure." And before he could start crying, he picked up his little boy and kissed him one more time before handing him to his mother.

"I love you Daddy."

"Love you too buddy."

52 days. 1248 hours ago. His best friend Joey told him to cheer up.

"There's other fish in the sea," Joey had said. "There's another trolley just around the corner."

"I don't want a fish or a trolley," he told Joey. "I want her."

"Well, she's gone, and she's not coming back." It was the first time any of his friends had said that out loud. That she was gone. That she wasn't coming back. He had just been pretending that she had run out to the grocery store and she was just running a little late.

"I know that."

"Do you?"  
"I do!"

"Then act like it. She's moving on with her life, dude, you need to move on with yours."

It was definitely easier said than done.

_I know this is how I could be over you_

_You know this is not another waste of time_

_All this holding on can't be wrong_

_Just come back to me and I am not alone _

Okay, so this is just the start. Can you guess who the guy is and who left him? Review and I'll let you know, I'm not above blackmail.


	2. I know this is how I could be over you

Okay, well thanks so much for reviewing! You guys are so super duper awesome, and I love you all and if I could I would give each of you a hug. However, that is not exactly feasible, so um, my appreciation will have to do. Please review again and tell me what you think, and I will try to get the next chapter up soon! Thanks!

Disclaimer: Haven't we been over this? Not mine.

The best thing for him to do, his friends decided, was to move out of his house. Chandler thought that this was a ridiculous idea.

"Why should I move out? I have this great house, it's in a great part of town," he argued.

"Chandler," his friend Phoebe said. "It's full of memories."

"But" Chandler had started, but Phoebe held up her hand.

"Move in with Joey," she said firmly. It wasn't a suggestion, it was a command. Move in with Joey. Move on with your life.

So that was why he was trudging boxes up the steps to his new apartment. Well, Joey's apartment, which was now his. What a change from his house with his wife. Instead of a dining room table, there was instead a foosball table, and instead of a couch and a loveseat, there were two Barcaloungers, one apparently named Rosita. It was a whole new world for Chandler.

And one, he was begrudgingly beginning to accept, that didn't include his wife and son.

She had moved on. She was dating a new guy named Derrick, and it made Chandler wonder if this Derrick had been there all along. Was that why she finally got the courage to leave? Was that why she moved to Chicago? For Derrick, who didn't have a last name, and as far as Chandler was concerned, didn't have one redeeming quality about him?

Chandler would have asked her, if he was talking to her. Instead their conversations were mostly one worded.

"Is Henry there?" Chandler would ask.

"Yes, hold on," and she would go find his son and hand the phone to him so that he and Chandler could talk. Well, hold as much of a conversation as someone could with a four-year-old. And then Chandler would have to go and he would tell Henry how much he loved him and how he was going to see him soon.

God, Chandler hated this. And in turn, hated her for doing this. It just wasn't fair. And every time he would say something to that effect, Phoebe would come back with the clichéd,

"Life's not fair." No, Chandler thought, it's not. But it should be. And why couldn't it be fair for him just this once?

He had a wife, a son, a great house, and he was happy. He had been happy, hadn't he? Hadn't she been happy at one point too?

But now she was in Chicago, and he was unpacking the boxes in his new apartment. Joey was on a date, and Phoebe was at home with her boyfriend Mike, and it was just Chandler there. He heard the knock on the door, and went to answer it.

There was a girl standing there. She was young, probably about twenty-one, and awfully pretty.

"Can I help you?" Chandler asked. She bit her lip.

"Is this Joey's apartment? I'm looking for Joey."

"He's not here right now," Chandler said. "But I can leave him a message."

"Oh, well can you tell him that Lucy came by looking for him?" She asked.

"Sure," Chandler said.

"Are you his new roommate?" Lucy asked smiling at him. She was blonde. He had always preferred brunettes. But a brunette had broken his heart.

He was pretty sure that now he preferred blondes.

"Yes, I just moved in, I'm Chandler," he stuck out his hand and Lucy took it.

"It's very nice to meet you Chandler," she said smiling. "Well, I should go, I'm supposed to go meet some friends of mine. I don't suppose you'd like to come?" Chandler looked back at the boxes in the apartment. The boxes filled with memories and mementos of his five years of marriage and turned back to Lucy. Young, blonde Lucy.

"Sure," Chandler said. "Let me just grab my coat."

_You had your man your fan but not forever_

_You should have let him_

_You should have let him getaway_

_But your pride made you ride on this slide by his side to his lies_

_Seemed like forever_

_What would you give to getaway? _

Lucy babbled all the way down to where she had to meet her friends. He liked that she babbled, it filled the silence and meant that he didn't have to talk. His wife had been the talker. Not that Chandler was quiet, but his wife could talk and talk and never run out of things to say. He had loved that about her. He had loved a lot of things about her.

"Here we are," Lucy said as they came upon a bar. They went inside and Chandler noticed right away that he was the oldest one there. He felt old. And his wedding ring felt heavy. He slipped it off and into his pocket. He didn't need it. She was in Chicago, and he was at a bar with a girl named Lucy in New York.

He made the conscious decision that he would have fun that night. It would be hard, he knew, because everything that he saw, reminded him of his wife. Lucy ordered the same drink that his wife drank. And he had the overwhelming urge to run to the phone and call her and tell her that he loved her and that he was sorry and to hell with Derrick, and please bring Henry and come home.

But he couldn't. Because he knew that it was no use. And he was going to have fun that night.

And when Lucy asked him if he wanted to come up to her apartment, it was why he didn't hesitate before saying yes, because if she was going to sleep with some guy named Derrick, then he was certainly going to sleep with Lucy. He didn't even feel badly that he was using Lucy, because he was pretty sure that she was using him too.

But when he woke up the next morning, he felt dirty and old. He slipped out of Lucy's bed and into her living room. And he called his wife in Chicago at six in the morning, and she answered with a tired,

"Hello?"

"Hey. It's me."

"Chandler? It's six in the morning! What's the matter?"

"I'm sorry, I know it's early, but..." He trailed off and he could hear her growing impatient on the other end.

"Chandler..."

"Listen, I'm sorry. Come home please."

"We've been over this. I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't." And Chandler slammed the phone down and went back to Lucy.

_I know this is how I could be over you_

_You know this is not another waste of time_

_All this holding on can't be wrong_

_Just come back to me so I am not alone _

_To getaway_

It was the last person who he expected at his door three weeks later. Lucy had taken him rollerblading in Central Park and they had gone to some Indian restaurant, and Chandler felt like he was going to puke, but he couldn't let Lucy know this. He didn't tell Lucy that he was too old really to go rollerblading. Because he was having fun. Because this way he didn't think of his wife at all.

Once he had gotten home and he was lying on the couch with ice packs on his knees, he heard a knock on the door and he got up to answer it.

"Monica?" He asked when he saw who was on the other side.

"Hey," she said. She tucked her dark hair, shoulder length now, behind her ear and smiled at him. "Can I come in? I need to talk to you." And Chandler didn't hesitate before moving aside and letting her come in.

"What's the matter?" He asked.

"Joey said that you had moved back in with him," she started. "Pete...he left me. And I needed to talk to someone and I knew that Kathy left you and so... you would understand."

"Sure, sure. God Mon, I'm so sorry," Chandler said taking his best friend's hand and leading her into the apartment. "Sit down and start from the beginning."

_I know this is how I could be over you_

_You know this is not another waste of time_

_All this holding on can't be wrong_

_And I know this is how I could be over you_

_You know I am not another waste of time_

_All this holding on can't be wrong_

_If you come back to me so I am not alone_

Okay, did I throw you for a loop there? Did you think that Monica was his wife? Haha! I love being able to do that. Please review and I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible! Thanks!


	3. All this holding on can't be wrong

Okay, here's the next chapter! Please review again, that was awesome. If this is awful, I can blame it on the fact that I was praying to the porcelain gods this morning. You know, it always seems like a good idea to go out to a party, and yet I always end up lying on the bathroom floor moaning, "Kill me, kill me now." Anyway, while I go get some more aspirin and maybe try to eat something. Review please and make me feel better!

Disclaimer: Not mine. They're never mine.

It didn't take long for Monica to start crying. It came spilling out. Pete was having an affair with his secretary.

"God!" Monica complained. "How clichéd. He's sleeping with his secretary. Geez, Pete, a little more creative." He had apparently told Monica that she could have whatever she wanted, but he didn't want to be married to her anymore. He was going to leave her.

"For her?" Chandler asked. "The secretary?"

"Yes! Her! The secretary! Jennie. Her name is Jennie, Chandler. My husband has left me for a girl named Jennie." Monica buried her head in her hands and her body heaved with sobs.

"What about Natalie?" Chandler asked gently rubbing a hand over Monica's back. Natalie. Monica's four-year-old daughter. It had taken her so long to get pregnant with Natalie, and Monica adored her.

"He said that I could have primary custody and that he would take her on weekends," Monica said sighing heavily. "He has her now. He took her to one of her friend's birthday parties."

"It's going to be okay," Chandler told her. "It's going to get better." Oh, who was he kidding? It was going to hurt like hell, he wanted to tell her. He has left you for someone else, that hurts more than anything else. He wanted someone else, someone that was not you. It felt as if the world should stop turning, and time should stop and allow to them to like their wounds and move on, but it didn't. It kept moving, and Pete was moving on, and Kathy was moving on, and Chandler was finally moving on, and Monica would eventually too.

Lucy. He had forgotten that he was supposed to call her. But Monica was more important right then. Monica who had her head buried and was crying so hard and so much that Chandler was sure that she would dehydrate. He wanted to ask her if she needed a glass or water to replenish the supply of tears.

"How? How is it going to get better?" Monica asked looking up at him with red eyes. "I can't imagine it not feeling like it does now. Like I had done something wrong. Because I wasn't good enough for him."

"You were. You were good enough."

"Obviously I wasn't," Monica argued. "Because he slept with her. He slept with Jennie." She said the name with such venom. "I couldn't have been enough. What more did he want me to do? I quit my job for him! I stayed home with Natalie so that she wouldn't be raised by a nanny like he had requested. What more did he want?"

"I don't know," Chandler answered. "I don't think that there was anything else you could do."

"Why did Kathy leave you?" Chandler was taken aback. No one had asked that question. He knew they all had to be dying of curiosity, but not a single one of his other friends has asked him that hard question. Why Kathy left. Why did she pack up his son and her life and leave him? "Is that too personal? Should I have not asked that?"

"No, no, it's fine," Chandler assured her. "It's just....To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure."

"You don't know?" Monica asked in an incredulous voice. "What did she say? Did she tell you anything? Or did she just pack up and leave one day?"

"She said...she said that it wasn't the same anymore. She said that she had to leave."

"I'm sorry," Monica said as she wrapped her arms around him. "I'm so sorry. I should have done more for you when you moved back. I'm such a horrible friend." Here she was, her husband just left her for a younger woman and she was apologizing for not being there for him when his wife had left him.

"No, you're not," Chandler told her as he returned the hug. "You're a great friend. You had your own problems to worry about."

"Have you seen Henry yet?"

"Not yet."

"Do you miss him?" Monica bit her lip. She was asking all the tough questions. The questions that no one had been brave enough to ask him. No one else, that was, but her.

"Every single minute," Chandler answered. He had always felt like he could talk to Monica, more so than even Joey. She just understood him. She had gone with him to pick out Kathy's engagement ring, she had been the first one that he had called when Kathy got pregnant, and likewise, he was the first she had called when she found out she was pregnant. It was a joke amongst their friends that Monica had called him before she even called Pete. Which was true, and which had bothered Pete to no end.

"He was a C!" Monica had laughingly explained. "C comes before P. That's all there is to it." She had told Pete not to read into it. Chandler had always gotten the impression that Pete wasn't too fond of him. He loved Joey and Ross, always getting them Knicks tickets and football tickets, but he really didn't like Chandler.

"Don't be silly," Monica had argued. "Of course he likes you." He didn't though, and Chandler knew this. Just as Kathy wasn't overly fond of Monica. She had never been rude, but she had always been more reserved around Monica than Chandler's other friends.

Of course, he had never told her that he had been in love with Monica since he could remember, but he assumed that she could see that anyway. Not that he would have ever acted on it. It was better to have Monica as a friend than not have her in his life at all. Besides, she was too far out of his league.

"Chandler," Monica whispered. "Tell me it gets better. Tell me it doesn't hurt like this always." He brushed her hair behind her ear.

"It gets better. It won't always hurt so much. I promise." Then he just held her. He held her until her crying had subsided. She looked up at him with her eyes filled with tears, and suddenly he was overcome with the desire to kiss her.

No, he told himself. That would be wrong. She was hurting, and she was vulnerable, and besides, he had Lucy now. Lucy. Blonde, cute, young Lucy. And Monica's husband had just left her. It wasn't the time to kiss her. It just wouldn't be appropriate. It wouldn't be right.

But he never listened when common sense told him not to do something, and so he leaned down and he kissed her anyway.

Okay, I hoped that you liked it, please review and let me know. The good stuff is just beginning. What about little old Lucy? And how will Monica react to being kissed to? Uh-oh spaghetti-o! Yeah, I really need to go lay down.


	4. You know this is not another waste of ti...

Sorry this took so long, I've been incredibly busy. School is in full swing, and that means all the papers and exams and lovely pop quizzes that comes with it. Don't you just love pop quizzes? Especially when they come right after you went out for your roommate's birthday the night before and didn't read Act II of Henry V because you figured that you would just read it later and you have read every other act on time? Yeah, no, I'm not bitter at all. Not at all. Anyway, please review and make me feel better, because I'm fairly sure that I failed that quiz. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Not my characters. Unfortunately.

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He realized the gravity of his mistake when she pulled away in shock.

"What was that?" Monica demanded. "What were you doing?"

"I'm sorry," Chandler said jumping up out of his seat. "I wasn't thinking. I'm so sorry."

"I just...what....possessed you to do that?"

"I'm sorry," Chandler said again. He didn't know what else to say. He wasn't exactly sure of why he had done it, so how could he explain it to Monica?

She didn't need this right now, she had just needed a friend to talk to. She thought of all people, Chandler would the right one. Chandler would understand. He was her best friend, he always understood her best. So what the hell had he been thinking?

Not that the kiss wasn't good. She had to admit that he was a very good kisser, but no. He shouldn't have done it. He shouldn't have kissed her.

"I need....to....um, to go," she managed to stutter out. She grabbed her purse.

"Monica, please, I'm sorry, I just....got caught up in the moment. Please stay so that we can talk about this," Chandler pleaded. Why had he done this? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now she probably wouldn't ever want to be alone with him anymore. He was such a complete idiot.

"I have to go get Natalie," she said finally. "I have to pick up Natalie." Chandler wondered if that was true, or if she just needed to leave. He would have put good money on the second one. Not that he could blame her. He would want to leave too if he were in her shoes.

"Mon....I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. I didn't mean....." To do it? No, he meant to do it. She had looked so beautiful, her blue eyes shining with tears, and her lips curved slightly into a frown. She had looked so beautiful and sad that he couldn't help but kiss her.

Monica decided to take pity on him. He did look sorry, really he did. And if he said that he didn't mean anything by it, then he probably didn't. It was a mistake. A stupid, stupid mistake. She didn't want to lose him as her friend.

"I know, Chandler, it's okay. I have to go get Natalie. We'll talk later okay?" But not about this, Monica thought. This was better never to be mentioned again.

"Okay," Chandler conceded, trying to read her. He decided he couldn't tell if she was being serious or not, and how much damage this had done to their relationship. "I'm sorry Mon." He couldn't stop saying that. He couldn't stop apologizing.

"I have to go," she said again before disappearing out the door. Once the door was shut, Chandler buried his head in his hands. What had he done? Monica. His best friend. How could he have kissed her? What had he been thinking?

And then there was still Lucy. But what was Lucy? Were they really dating? Or was this just her sewing her wild oats, and his rebound? His head was spinning. Lucy. Monica. What had he done?

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Monica got into the car that was waiting for her and closed her eyes. This was the nice part about being married to Pete. The cars and the houses and the money, all that money. And what the car provided was a time for Monica to gather her thoughts before she came face to face with Pete. She pressed the button to give herself some privacy, after telling the driver, Kenneth,

"I just need a minute." He probably assumed that she was still broken up about Pete leaving her. She knew it was good gossip among their employees. Poor Mrs. Becker. Her husband's left her for a younger woman.

But Chandler had kissed her. And that was the overwhelming thought running through her head. And what a good kiss.

No. It was not a good kiss. Except, oh, it was.

Didn't he have a new girlfriend? Hadn't Joey said something about a hot, young girl that Chandler had been dating? So what was he doing kissing her? She wasn't ready to be kissed.

The car slid to a stop outside the apartment that Pete was now staying in, letting her and Natalie keep theirs. Kenneth opened the door for her, and she took a deep breath and went into the building. When the door slid open on Pete's floor, she heard Natalie giggling inside. Okay, Monica thought, no more thoughts of Chandler, or that kiss, or even Pete. Just think about Natalie.

"Mommy!" Natalie catapulted into her arms.

"Hey baby, how was the party?"

"Oh it was good. She got this giant giraffe that she named George, which Jamie told her was a stupid name, and then she cried, so I told her that George was a great name and that I wanted one just like it named George, and so Daddy went out and bought me one, and now Sarah and I have twin giraffes named George!" Natalie was a rambler, and Monica was never more thankful for her daughter's chatter. She didn't have to think about anything but Natalie and her giraffe. "But what house am I going to keep him in?" Natalie suddenly said as she pointed behind her to a giant stuffed animal.

"Take that one to Mommy's," Pete said. "And Daddy will buy you another one for here." Pete was always good with that. Buying love, buying security, he was under the impression that everything could be bought.

"Okay!" Natalie grinned.

"Come here Princess, give me a kiss goodbye," Pete said. Natalie went skipping back and gave him a kiss and a hug.

"When will I see you again?" She asked looking at her father.

"Tuesday?" Pete asked, and Monica nodded. "Tuesday, honey, I'm going to pick you up from preschool." Monica was reminded again that Chandler hadn't seen Henry since Kathy left. Her heart broke for him. She couldn't imagine being without Natalie for that long. She couldn't stand to be without her for an hour, let months.

"See you then," Monica said to Pete as he handed her Natalie's bag and Natalie took the giant stuffed animal in her arms and headed towards the door.

"Bye Daddio!" Natalie called as Monica held her hand and led her out the door.

No, this was good. Natalie was a good distraction. She could think about Natalie only and not about Pete, and how he left her for a younger woman, and not think about Chandler, and how he was dating a younger woman, but had kissed her. Her mind kept going back to that. He had kissed her! But she would focus only on Natalie and she would not, would not think about Chandler and that kiss. That great, wonderful....wrong, very wrong kiss.

Now how the hell was she supposed to do that?

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Please, please review and let me know if you still like it. Cause that would make me very, very happy. Now, I have to do laundry, which does not make me happy because it's like 2 bucks a load! Isn't that such crap? I mean, come on, I'm paying way too much to go to my school as it is, and now I have to pay that much for laundry? I think the chancellor of my school and I need to sit down and have a serious talk. Review! Thanks!


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